


Hostage Heart

by Cat_Moon



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2684570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Cat_Moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another dance of words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hostage Heart

**Author's Note:**

> A small epilogue to the episode "Hostage."

  
As soon as the teleport rendered them safely aboard the Liberator, Blake sent the others on to the flight deck.  He bullied Avon into the medical section, personally making sure he got the attention he needed.  Which wasn't easy, considering who the patient was.  Only perseverance and a stubbornness that was a match for Avon's kept him from being booted out several times.  Nothing was easy, where Kerr Avon was concerned.

Nothing...

Blake felt the last of the tension leave him only when he was certain Avon was going to be all right.  It had been another in a long line of close calls, too close.  But this time at least, he could accept the events with a clear conscience.  He hadn't taken this latest risk for anything as obscure as lofty idealism, or, as Avon would undoubtedly put it, obsessive fanaticism. There was no other choice he could have made. His uncle Ushton and his cousin Inga were in trouble.  There was no doubt in his mind that Travis would have killed them both after getting what he wanted.

Still, if anything had happened to Avon...

And speaking of, his resident enigma was reclining in the chair, watching him steadily.  Something in the intense scrutiny tightened his insides, but he waited for Avon to make the first move--whatever that turned out to be.

The wait wasn't a long one.

"Blake, why did you do it?  After I did what I did..."  Vague, but then Avon didn't need to be more specific.   They were usually on opposite sides in the philosophical battle of wits--yet completely in tune with one another at the same time.  It was unsettling and more than a little scary, but it was the nature of their relationship.

"Leave you to die or be captured?  Don't be ridiculous," Blake said lightly.

Avon pondered briefly before speaking.  "Oh, yes.  You have enough guilt on your head, after Gan.  If you lost another one, the followers might get restless."

"Is that what you really think?" Blake asked with a sigh.  Avon didn't answer.  "It appears I'm not the only one who knows about guilt," he observed.

"You still haven't answered my question," Avon pointed out doggedly.

"Perhaps I did it because I love you," Blake answered in a lightly amused voice, giving Avon's forehead a quick kiss before rising to leave.

Silence followed him to the doorway.  "That wasn't funny," Avon snapped in a deadly serious tone.

Blake paused, his back to his shipmate.  "Perhaps it wasn't meant to be," he said in the same tone, and began to move forward again.

"Blake."  The command once again stopped him.  "Don't play games with me."

He turned to face Avon.  "That's an odd statement, coming from the master game-player, don't you think?"

"No, I don't.

"All right, then.  I'm not playing games with you, Avon, despite what you think.  I never have."

"Ha!"  Avon scowled, his accusation holding Blake.  "Are you going to deny you're the master manipulator, leading your flock like some deranged pied-piper?"

"Are you being manipulated, Avon?"

The minute flash of his eyes told of a scored hit.  "I was referring to the blind sheep out there, not me."

"This sudden altruistic streak of yours is interesting."

"You've been out in space too long, Blake, if you think that motley crew concerns me for anything else but purely self-preserving reasons."

Blake shook his head.  "You loudly profess your dispassion with the others, tell me I should know that of you.  If I deny it, you'll make some scathing remark, yet if I agree--I'll hurt your feelings, because we both know it isn't true.  And you accuse _me_ of games."

"Hurt my feelings?!" Avon demanded indignantly, with a bark of laughter.

"You test me, constantly, always pushing.  Frankly, it wears thin.  You challenge me, daring me to live up to your somewhat low opinion of me.  Yet if I did, you'd despise me for it.  Your possible motives intrigue me."

"Surely you have better things to do than ponder my motives.  And it can't come as much of a shock to you that I despise you."

"I don't deny that you want to.  I also know you can't.  I _know_ you, Avon--and you hate that I do."

"Yet I don't know _you_.  Maybe that is what I hate," Avon said in a rare burst of undisguised honesty.

Blake smiled.  "You have only yourself to blame for that one, my friend."

Avon's eyes narrowed.  "So you say."

"Perhaps you're not as brave a man as you would have everyone believe," Blake said with a knowing gaze, despite the fact that he knew  Avon would find it infuriating.  He wanted very badly to tumble Avon's wall, but beyond it was a dangerous mine field he was hesitant to traverse.

"Thanks for the psych probe, Blake, but no thanks.  If I were you, I'd stick to running revolutions."

"Would you?"

"I could tell you a thing or two about yourself as well, you know."

 "Could you now," Blake said mildly.

"You infuriate me, Blake!" Avon finally nearly-shouted.

Blake moved close, holding up his arms.  "And nothing up my sleeves," he said softly into Avon's ear.  An almost imperceptible shudder was the only sign of acknowledgment.  "And if I do contemplate a gesture of...friendship, I run the risk of having it thrown back in my face again.  You're not the only one who's afraid--"

"Afraid of what?" Avon challenged, cutting him off.  He stared into Blake's eyes.

Blake smiled a little, to belay his nervousness.  "Draw your own conclusions."  He walked away, pausing by the door when Avon's voice again stopped him.

"I demand to know what kind of game you're playing this time!"

"I told you, I'm not playing any games.  I never was."

"You said..."  The silence stretched on almost to the breaking point, a waiting game to see which man would finally relent.  Not by nature a patient man, Avon looked as though he might scream.  Surprising them both, it was he who broke the stalemate.  "You said you saved me because..."

Blake met his gaze, knowing the answer was all too clear in his eyes.  "Yes, I do."  He turned and started to walk out, pausing one last time.  "It's always been your decision, Avon," he murmured, an echo from before, whose meaning was infinitely deeper now.

This time, he forced his feet to keep walking.

On the flight deck, Jenna looked up at him as he entered.  "How's Avon?" she asked.

"He'll be all right," Blake answered, busying himself with mundane work to occupy his mind and calm his racing heart.

Maybe, with a lot of luck, they both would.

 

 

6/6/94


End file.
